


One: Project Cadmus (with help from Max Lord)

by coffeehousehaunt



Series: How Alex Became Batgirl [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, How Alex Danvers Became Batgirl, Project Cadmus, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alex becomes Batgirl as a result of being duped by Max Lord--who is, of course, up to his eyeballs in Project Cadmus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One: Project Cadmus (with help from Max Lord)

**Author's Note:**

> Starts at the climax (essentially), because this is supposed to be a series of unrelated one-shots and not multi-chapter multi-piece spec seasons. *looks nervously at plotbunny* 
> 
> Also, Max Lord gets his neck snapped, in case that'd be traumatic (or fantastic!) for you. That's the major character death. 
> 
> In my head, I have a series of all the different ways Alex becomes Batgirl, because it hit me real hard after watching the con recording. There's a super gay one with Sara Lance somewhere in there, too. We'll see how far this all gets. 
> 
> Also, I'm kind of writing this to exorcise my fears of the trainwreck that will be the CW's attempt to pair off Alex with Max Lord. I don't often have NOTPs, but that will 1010% be one.

“I’m not leaving without you!” Kara says fiercely, clinging hard to Alex—human-hard, though. Not Kryptonian-hard. 

Alex nods. Swallows. “I know.” 

Her hand arcs up, faster than Kara can follow; the needle’s in the meat of her shoulder before Kara has a chance to register the movement. 

There’s not even a moment of confusion on Kara’s face as she sags, Alex notes with—pride? Pride. At the hurt, the realization, the raging _determination_ —even as consciousness flees, fighting. So Kara. Shining, even in here. Alex catches Kara’s head against her shoulder; wraps her arms around Kara’s waist to hold her, however awkwardly, for a moment. Presses her forehead into Kara’s shoulder and takes a shuddering breath. 

Kara’s weight starts to ease off her, and Alex lets J’onn lift Kara up. 

There’s a moment where she can’t even speak. Then, “Jeremiah needs a distraction.” 

J’onn nods. Alex tears herself away from the sight of them; grabs the chair and swings it, crashing through the glass on the display case. Glittering shards bounce off the armor, the smooth grey skin of the mannequin. 

“Get her to the surface.” 

J’onn hesitates. “Alex—“ 

Alex’s head snaps around. “Martian, _go_.” She growls. 

J’onn’s eyes flicker between her and the mannequin. His head lowers once in assent. 

And then, in a burst of red static, he’s gone. With Kara. Alex lets out a breath and turns back to the mannequin. 

The armor doesn’t take long to put on. She pulls the crystals out from the cage, silver-pulsing, where they’ve been soaking in radiation from the mantle around them. Even through the armor, they’re _hot_. Burning hot. She’ll most likely have blisters, after this. 

But when they settle into the circuits and the light from them bleeds into the veins of the suit—suddenly, it doesn’t hurt at all. Suddenly, the heat suffuses her entire body, like sparks dancing over her skin, and she thinks she understands a little bit, maybe, what Kara feels when she stands in the sunlight. 

After all, this is radiation left over from a supernova. 

She pulls the mask over her face. 

Time to give Jeremiah his distraction. 

// 

“Supergirl… doesn’t… kill.” Max chokes out, jaw pulled painfully awkward and working against her hands. She can feel the tendon in the left side straining against her right palm. She jerks her hands; something pops against her palm, and Max howls. 

“I do.” She growls through the mask, and snaps her hands brutally past each other, torquing Max’s head between them. There’s a loud _crack_ , and Max goes limp, head locked far past the angle a human head should turn. 

She bends down in the smoke-filled R&D lab and holds her fingers to the pulse point in his neck until she’s sure he’s dead. And then she’s pulled back to reality—

By a shudder through the structure around her so sharp it causes her to stumble. Blaring alarms, smoke pouring through the vents. There’s an acrid tang in the air coming through her mask. The filter must be giving out. 

Somewhere, Supergirl is in the light; somewhere, Kara has the sun on her face. But Alex is a mile plus down beneath the surface of the Earth. 

And Project Cadmus is coming apart around her; the tectonic rift it’s nestled in jolted out of its fragile equilibrium. Thanks to the explosions set off by Jeremiah. 

Oh, god, Jeremiah. 

She strides over to the elevator doors; the metal _shrieks_ as it peels back under her hands, but it feels about the level of effort as she’d expend opening a stubborn bag of potato chips. She peers into the shaft. 

No elevator. It’s dark; so dark it makes the smoky R&D lab behind her with its red lights look like broad daylight. But the air shimmers with heat; a black lake of radiation. 

She finds the ladder, though, and starts climbing. Clings to the rungs when another tremor threatens to shake her loose. 

After a little while, she becomes aware of a dim light radiating up from below. And the smell—

You can’t _smell_ water. Same as you can’t smell fire. You can smell smoke; the particles of dust and pollen and asphalt pulled out of the air, weighed down by the precipitation. But that’s not the same thing. 

All the same. Alex can _smell_ the heat radiating up from beneath her. The molten crust flooding the lowest levels, escaping its containment vessels and rising like a slow tide. Filling this place like cement. If the walls don’t collapse and crush her first, this will do the job just fine. 

Looking up is futile. Alex looks up. Sees the faint outline of the next level’s door. The sparks shimmering over her skin intensify. Her muscles bunch; she doesn’t even think about it. 

She jumps.


End file.
